The Elric Children
by TheHallow
Summary: A One-Shot series on the adventures of Edward Elric's children, Weston Von Elric and Annelie Kristin Elric, as they cross Amestris in search of their father as well as the mysterious masked man who broke them apart. Follow their adventure, as the two siblings encounter old enemies, friends, and create some new ones as well. (This is a novel, two OC's)
1. Chapter 1: The Rebound

Chapter 1: The Rebound

_Alchemy is the science of Comprehension, Deconstruction, and Reconstruction. In other words, using 'transmutation' one can manipulate an object into another of equal value. But, one cannot change an object of a different element into that of another, such is the law of Equivalent Exchange. In other words the basis of alchemy is "exact trade", if one wished to make something, they would need something of the equivalent cost._

_There are rumors of a stone, which can bypass such law. But, if one did not have such stone, and bypassed said law, what would be the equivalent cost?_

* * *

"ANNELIE!" his scream could be heard from a mile away, it certainly sounded like the Fullmetal, the man smirked to himself. He has been waiting for the day to meet face to face with Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, for a long time. He had always been so predictable, shouting and giving attention to himself before he attacked... wait, no! Fullmetal is way too cunning to do something like that. He would only yell like that to distract his enemy!

The masked man desperately scanned the warehouse for any opportunities of sneak attacks. But he was too late.

The man watched from inside as the door to the abandoned warehouse opened with a screech as rusted metal on metal scraped together. A large shadow stretched over the man's face from the light of the moon, but whom the shadow belonged to was not that of a man, but that of a child. The man smirked at the young boy, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

No, Fullmetal should be an adult by now, although this boy most certainly looked like him, he was not the Fullmetal Alchemist. Time changes when you spend too much of it in a prison. But he had left the message of his kidnapped daughter for the Alchemist, who else could have received it?

The boy held an expression of fury on his face that looked so much like said alchemist, the man thought, for a minute, that he had transported back in time.

"Give me back my Sister, you Bastard!"

* * *

"_Fuhrer!" _He was still trying to get used to that name. Soldiers standing attention for him whenever he walked down the halls.

"Fuhrer, Mustang, _sir!"_ Ooo, that one was a little more formal than usual, must be a new kid.

Fuhrer Roy Mustang walked down the halls of Central with pride on his face, he finally got the job. He's actually had it for two months now, it was all so sudden when he was finally elected by the new board to become Fuhrer. _Better late than never. _

Of course the previous Fuhrer after Bradly, was Fuhrer Grumman who died a peaceful death just last year. What had infuriated Fuhrer Roy Mustang was the fact that it took them a whole damn year to decide that he was fit for the job! Oh well, he still got it like he knew he would. After all, not only did Grumman write a letter prior to his death preferring Roy Mustang, but the electoral votes had him win by a land slide.

Down the hall he could hear the voices of the new Major, the Incendiary Alchemist, and Major Armstrong, well actually it was more like Major Armstrong was yelling down the hall and at the new Major. Oh, he already took off his shirt for the new comer.

**"Have you heard of the Elric Children? They are the Fullmetal Alchemist's offspring!" **Major Armstrong yelled at the flustered Major.

"Actually," Mustang cut in, "Edward Elric is no longer the Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Armstrong," frightening the new Major, who's eyes bulged before standing in attention, "Fuhrer, _sir," _so this sir thing was what all the newbies said.

Major Armstrong just turned to Mustang looking down at him from his impressive muscles, then burst into what could have been a smile behind his large mustache, **"Of course Elric is no longer the Fullmetal Alchemist! I have gotten so accustomed to that name, old habits die hard!" **he laughed jovially

After having a hearty conversation with the Major, Fuhrer Mustang finally moved on, and back on his course through the halls, reveling in the sea of colonels and lieutenants standing in attention.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye,"

"Yes, sir," came the reply Mustang always relied on.

"We haven't seen Edward Elric in a long time,"

"Not since the Final Battle, sir,"

"I think it's time we pay a visit."

* * *

Lieutenant Hawkeye knocked on the door of the familiar building out in the country side of Resembol. Only this time the sign out front that said Auto Mail had been changed to "Winry Elric's Auto Mail". Mustang could hear the thumping of feet on wood before the door opened revealing a young girl with blonde hair and wide blue eyes.

At first, Mustang and Hawkeye became very confused and flustered at the young girl, for she looked almost exactly like Winry as a child, until she gave them a very familiar dead eye look, pointed, and said, "who the fuck are you?" in a very rude manner that gravely insulted Fuhrer Mustang's ego.

But instead, Mustang found the incredible urge to laugh, and it burst forth from his mouth, startling the young girl. Although the young girl did look closely like her mother, there were more things about her father that stood out even more now that he noticed. The girl's attitude definitely being one of them.

"Annelie!" came a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice, "how many times have I washed your mouth with soap for that language?!" the door then opened further to reveal Winry Elric, who now looked more robust and womanly than her thin figure from her teens. But that was expected to happen from motherhood. Fuhrer Mustang had no idea that 4'11 pipsqueak Edward Elric would be able to change a woman in such a way, but before he could get carried away, Mustang quickly swallowed that thought before it ran away with him.

Winry's blue eyes blinked at them, "Lieutenant Hawkeye?" she said as her eyes moved on to Mustang, "Colonel Mustang?!"

"Fuhrer Mustang actually," Mustang replied lightly, smiling at the young woman.

Winry just blinked again, "Yes, of course, it's Fuhrur Mustang now. I guess I'm just so used to calling you Colonel!" Winry chatted awkwardly, it was understandable, after all they hadn't seen each other in so long.

"Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"You know we've been getting a lot of visits as of late, Major Armstrong just visited last week!"

"Did he?"

The fuhrer and lieutenant sat down at the kitchen table, the young girl who had answered the door watched them suspiciously as she handed them a slice of Apple pie and coffees.

"So Edward Elric really did have children didn't he?" Fuhrer Mustang laughed, "you know your children are all the gossip around Central."

The young girl, perked up at this news, "really?" She grinned, "I'm not that surprised, after all i am practically famous," she joked in a cocky manner, swishing her long hair behind her shoulder.

Suddenly a metal fist lightly tapped on the young girls head, and there was a tall young man that looked almost exactly like Fullmetal, the only think that clued the Fuhrer and his lieutenant that he wasn't his father was that his hair was kept in a short half ponytail.

"Annelie, show some respect towards the Fuhrer," he scolded his little sister, then he suddenly made a similar evil grin that again looked akin to the Fullmetal, "or else i'll call you a pipsqueak again," he threatened, his grin widening.

The young girl, Annelie, then began to turn a shade of red that rivaled a tomat and gripped the metal arm on top of her head as if to do something incredibly dangerous with it. But instead she smiled at the Fuhrer and said, "Please forgive my behavior, Fuhrer Mustang."

This surprised the Fuhrer, but he excused her anyway with a laugh.

These kids were so much like their parents, it was whiplash. One minute he saw Edward Elric, then Alphonse Elric, and then Winry. It was distracting to say the least.

Mustang then focused on the boy's automail arm, so there was a reason why Major Armstrong had given such a major clue to visit the Elric Children, something happened here.

"Boy," Fuhrer Mustang called out to the young man.

"Yes sir?" The boy replied almost automatically, it was strange to see someone almost just like Edward paying attention like that.

"What is your name?"

"Weston Von Elric, sir,"

The Fuhrer smiled at the boy's name, "good name," Mustang complimented, "but why don't we address the elephant in the room, so-to-speak."

The boy frowned nervously, he then sighed patiently and sat down at the worn wooden table, "You can ask, I will answer."

"But, brother!-"

"Annelie, it's fine," he cut her off, "I have nothing to hide anyway."

* * *

"The masked man forced my hand, and trust me I knew the consequences of what he had asked me to do. But, he had my sister, he threatened to use her for 'alchemic research' but i knew what that meant. He was going to experiment on her. So I committed the taboo, it rebounded and I lost my arm." Weston took a breath, clenching his hands on the table, "he did it for revenge on my father, he said so! And when we finally got home, we couldn't find him, we waited for days and days, we're still waiting, our father is missing."

The silence that filled the room was deafening. Edward Elric is missing, his son lost his arm, and there is this strange masked man, Mustang has his work cut out for him.

"What was it, what did you create that cost you your arm?" Mustang demanded, the boy shook at his question, his mouth agape as if to say something, he looked down at the grain of the table in despair.

His sister, who sat beside the boy, held his hand, "I think you know what he created," she saved her brother from explaining. He created a being, a misshapen person that was not meant to be born in such a way. Fuhrer Mustang only knew how lucky he was to never be able to see it, and if he did, he wouldn't waste a second to put it out of its misery.

"It was in pain," she continued, "it was dilapidated and groaned out, reaching towards somebody, anybody to help it."

"What happened to it? Did it die?"

"No," Weston replied before his sister could for him, "the masked man fed it, I knew what he was feeding it, my father didn't particularly enjoy telling me, but he knew he had to, so that i didn't make the mistake he did," Mustang could tell this kid knew to swallow his pride, and learn something when needed, just like his father.

"He fed it philosopher stones, he had so many," Weston shuddered.

"I created a homunculus."

_to be continued..._

* * *

_A/N: okay, so i wanted to keep going lol, but i felt that i was taking way to long on this chapter. Forgive me if i misspelled, I'm using my kindle fire and its auto fill gets a little weird sometimes lol. Like it would replace masked with naked XD _

_This chapter was actually going to be completely different, i was going to start out with a fighting scene, but i changed my mind, and it just played out this way, :P _

_I know that Major Armstrong moved up in rank in the 2003 anime, but i like to follow the Brotherhood more than the 2003, although i might refer to it a little, like with the homunculus. _

_I did not move Riza Hawkeye up in rank either because i feel that she should always be Roy Mustang's lieutenant :P _

_Please review! Tell me what you think :) Thanks! _


	2. Chapter 2: The Ishvalan Part 1

Chapter 2: The Ishvalan

_It wasn't long ago, when a war began from a single gun shot. An Ishvalan child was killed, and many more were slaughtered. A Civil War erupted, and seven years afterward the executive order #3066 ordered the extermination of the Ishvalans. This cause extreme resentment from the surviving Ishvalans, and unnecessary fear from the people of Amestris.  
_

_After the slaughter, the Ishvalans were dubbed as a dead race. _

_All of it, for a philosophers stone. _

* * *

It was hot, and his shoulder was suffering from it, his automail felt as though it burned into his skin causing him to sweat awkwardly between the metal plates. It's summer in the desert city of Reole, pronounced as Liore. Liore is northeast of Central City, and it was once known as the City of the Leto Church. After the fall of said church, and the lack of supervision from the central commands, an uprising began among the people, and the city fell. When the fighting finally calmed, the people who survived began to rebuild Liore. It is now a thriving city, full of happy and prosperous people.

Weston's brow began to sweat under the oppressive heat of the desert sun, and he wiped it away with the back of his left hand. This wasn't the first city Weston and his sister decided to search in hope for some clues about their father. But on this trip he decided to come alone, and he left his sister at Central who had taken a liking to Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Weston did not match his father in terms of fashion, besides fitting the color black into his closet, he did not agree in wearing a bright red cloak that attracted so much attention. He wore black pants tucked into black boots, and a black muscle shirt, he had long since taken off his jacket from the heat. The Blonde teen couldn't decide whether he was thankful for his black clothing or not, it was hot, and black did not suit well in that retrospect, but his dark clothing did help with blending into a crowd.

But apparently, nobody wears black in Liore, so it mattered not if he could blend into a crowd, he still stuck out like a sore thumb, much to his chagrin.

Weston cursed his fashion sense as he walked through the streets, the people noticed him and they didn't bother hiding their fascination. Well it could possibly be his metal arm that attracted their attention as well. But he ignored their stares, hoping that nobody would call him out.

"Hey, you!" a deep voice yelled out, but Weston kept walking, he had to tread carefully in this city. It was better to ignore it, eventually this guy would give up and leave him alone.

"You! Blondie, I'm talking to you!"

Damn, it was too late, he couldn't pretend that he didn't hear him, he knows what he looks like.

"Hmm?" he turned, there was a beefy looking dude with black cropped hair pointing at him, "yeah? What do you want?"

The beef-man's face had a look of incredulous anger, this was a man who held a grudge.

"You look awfully familiar to me, what your name?" he asked, giving a grin that struck Weston as one he didn't want to mess around with.

"What's it to you?"

"Hah," the man scoffed at him, he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, and swaggered closer to Weston, "you look a lot like a man who came here about twenty years ago, he had blonde hair, gold eyes, and a metal arm. It's said that he caused the Liore uprising." the beef-man explained, "my father died in that uprising, so I just want to make sure," the man looked into Weston's eyes, "what is your name?"

Shit. This guy could beat him up, but it wasn't like he had actually caused this uprising, he was only fifteen, the uprising happened about twenty years ago.

He straightened, and faced the man straight on, he would not fear his own name, "My name is Weston Von Elric," he replied straight forward, "and I had nothing to do with the Liore Uprising."

There was a silence that followed his blunt statement, a small crowd had formed around the two as they stared at each other. The man kept a frown on his face the whole while, until, slowly it rose into a terrifying grin.

"Well that's just perfect," he laughed, his voice had instantly taken a fake facade, "Weston Von Elric, I didn't exactly tell you the name of the man who is said to have started the uprising did I?"

As the man asked his question he circled around Weston, a vulture around it's prey. A part of the crowd parted and some more beefy looking guys, with clubs and similar weapons, filed into the small circle that was created.

Weston remained calm, there was no need to get excited in this situation, "No, I don't believe you did," he replied, clenching his metal hand into a fist.

"His name," the man paused, allowing himself to get into Weston's face, charcoal eyes focused on gold, "was Edward Elric."

The man backed out of the young teen's face with a smirk, but what he saw was not what he expected. He expected fear and repentance, in the face of danger, but instead the damned brat was smiling. His gold eyes were proud, and his shoulders remained straight and strong.

"Who knew, huh," the boy shrugged, "I guess my dad really was a punk back then to be able to cause the fall of a city," he laughed, only to irritate the beef-man, "but you see," Weston paused, looking back at the man, his gold eyes shinning in defiance, "I was told a different story about the fall of your city."

The man was curious, he wanted to cause a fight to be sure, but he also wanted to know what this kid was told himself.

"Oh really," he replied, "please, enlighten us," he smiled, going back to circling his prey.

"Well, My Father found that the man of your great Leto Church, Father Cornello, was using a fraud Philosophers stone to gain your trust, putting him in a position of power over your city. He told you he was a prophet of the great God Leto. He had promised he could do many works of 'God' as he put it, claiming he could bring back the dead and work other miracles. But my father was clever, and used the radio to broadcast the man's confession of using a philosophers stone, also insulting your people gravely." Weston explained, smiling at his father's cleverness at such a young age, "I believe he called you guys a mindless horde, honestly I thought it was an insult without reason but now I see he was right."

The beef-man grabbed Weston's shirt lifting him into his face, "why I outta-" but Weston continued his story. He would set them straight, he wouldn't let such a rumor dishonor his father any longer.

"It wasn't until after my father left, that the people of your city decided to find Cornello and make him pay for his crimes, this is what caused the uprising. Yes, my father called a man out on his dictatorship over this city, but he did not cause an uprising nor would he ever want to cause so much death. You're people agreed to such a thing, and you're people decided to fight against each other, My father and myself had nothing to do with such a thing, and we never will!" Weston yelled at the beef-man, so much for not getting excited.

"huh," that man laughed at the teen, "you think your so tough, you little punk?"

"You wanna start something Beef-man?" Weston mocked back.

"What you call me?"

The man then raised his fist at Weston, but before he could do anything, the boy clapped his hands together, as if he were praying. Then he ducked down to the ground, and with a flash of light a giant hand came out of the ground and grabbed onto the man's wrist. The people in the crowd cried out in shock, and the some of the goon's friends dropped their weapons and yelled out in shock. But the giant hand was a loose hold, and if the beef-man wasn't freaking out so much then he could easily slip his hand out of it.

"Wha-what did you do?!" The beef-man screamed, his mouth agape in fear at the hand that materialized out of the ground.

"Relax," Weston suggested to the man, waving his hand at him, "you're not stuck, you can easily slip your hand out."

After the man calmed down and freed his wrist, he felt embarrassed and that embarrassment quickly turned into rage, but just before his second fist connected to Weston's face he ducked out the way, and ran through the crowd. He could hear the distant shout, "get that little alchemist punk!" as he tore down a dark alley. The alley wasn't a dark and cool one he was hoping for, but it was an alley none the less.

As he traveled down the alley he noticed that it's walls were closing in, that's wasn't a good sign, that usually meant that there would be a dead end, and he could hear shouts and foot steps closing in fast. Suddenly a very thick hand shot out and grabbed onto Weston's muscle shirt, "eh?", he said before being flung through a door and into a dark room.

"Oof," Weston landed with a thud on his ass, he heard a gruff, "stay here," as a door slammed on him. He stood up and looked around the room, there was a circular table with an unlit candle, and a curtain hung over an opening on one side of the wall. Weston listened on the other side of the door, as footsteps passed by, then the door opened to revel a thick, dark skinned, and cloaked man step into the room. His right arm was heavily tattooed in a transmutation circle that Weston couldn't figure out. He wore sunglasses, and his cloak only stopped at his elbows. This man was highly suspicious.

"Why did you help me?" Weston asked cautious.

"I have no intention in the son of the retired Fullmetal Alchemist, getting beat up by citizens, that would just be embarrassing" the man's guttural voice sounded serious and a little angry, so it just sounded weird when he was trying to make a joke.

"eeehhh, right, okay well thanks," Weston replied, "But how do you know my dad?"

The dark skinned man chuckled, "let's just say I'm an old friend," he then lifted his arms and pulled the hood away from his head, revealing a large x-shaped scar across his forehead.

Weston then burst forth laughing. Of course! He would run into this man! This man who once butted heads with his father, and then realized they were on the same team. All the man had to do was take off his hood, he didn't even have to take off his sun glasses, but he did so anyways.

Scar.

* * *

_A/N: this will be a trilogy chapter of one-shots. I was on a role today, and I figured that I would turn this into the Ishvalan trilogy :P _

_Please review and thank you for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3: The Ishvalan Part 2

**Warning: Angst and Hurt/Comfort (In Scar's sense of comfort, non slash! lol)  
**

* * *

Chapter 2: The Ishvalan Part 2

_While searching for clues on his father's wearabouts in Liore, Weston Von Elric ran into the Ishvalan he had heard so many stories about, Scar. _

* * *

The young teen, Weston, and Scar sat down at the table in the dark, cool room. The boy was cradling a mug of cider, finished bowls of stew were stacked up and pushed aside. He looked up at Scar, the man didn't look at all like he thought he would. With his cloak off Weston could see many more details of the man's profile he didn't see before, for example he had a ponytail, and the thin scar that wrapped around his right bicep, the arm that once belonged to his brother, was visible as well. Now that he could fully see both of his arms, Weston realized that Scar actually had a second tattoo on his left arm similar to the one on his right arm, Weston knew that they were transmutation circles of comprehension, deconstruction and reconstruction, but the design was completely foreign to him.

"I don't know if you've heard," Weston began, "but my father-"

"-is missing, yes I know," Scar cut him off, he seemed to like finishing his sentences, was he really that obvious?

"I'm here looking for clues," Weston added, "The cities I have been going to so far, are places where my father could have made enemies, possibly." he explained, his plan to find his father was a good one, but it had many faults.

The plan was to hit every city that his father went to as the Fullmetal Alchemist, and possibly caused a skirmish or made enemies. Down side, his father caused so much trouble everywhere he went during that time, and there were so many people that he fought with. The upside, was that most of those people were either humunculi, in jail, or dead, so that narrowed down many possibilities. Thanks to Fuhrer Mustang, Weston also got a hold of his father's hand written reports of his visits around Amestris. The one that stuck out the most was here, Liore.

Weston explained his plan to Scar, "Of course my sister would have said that this mission was basically to go to a city our father created an enemy and pick a fight until we got some answers, but I don't particularly agree to that one," Weston teased his sister behind her back.

"Why do I have the feeling that your sister is more like Fullmetal than you are?" Scar asked him in all seriousness.

"Retired Fullmetal," Weston corrected, "Oh, and my sister does have more qualities from our father than I do, but I've been told that we both have a good equal amount of both our parent's personalities, so I couldn't say." he shrugged, chuckling to himself, "So, how did you hear about my father's disappearance?"

"Just as everybody else has, through the military, as soon as Fuhrer Mustang found out fullmetal-,"

"-Retired Fullmetal-"

"-was missing he sent out the message to all of the headquarters across Amestris," Scar explained, "I was commanded from Major General Armstrong to the Eastern Headquarters, I was part of a search party afterwards, but we split up along the way, I was told that if I found anything to contact headquarters immediately," he finished, Weston nodded his approval, "I wasn't told much about what happened though," Scar finished, his eyes speaking for what his mouth couldn't.

Weston looked down into his empty mug, his expression darkening, "I need to tell you something," he said hunkered over his mug, "but I can't exactly tell you here," Weston looked up at Scar with knowing eyes.

Scar stood, "I know a good place to rent a room for the night," he said as he lifted the curtain that hid the room from prying eyes. Weston ducked through the curtain to find he was in a pub, thankfully none of the customers payed much attention to them. Scar led Weston through the pub over to the back where the bar table was. The bar was crowded as young men with their hearts in their eyes were trying to woo the waitress that manned the bar. The waitress was a woman, he supposed was around his mothers age, she had brown hair and pink bangs, with dark eyes. Weston soon found out that her name was Rose.

After Scar called her over and whispered into her ear, she gave a very serious nod and called out back to the cook. She said something about two house specials, the cook came out then, nodded at Scar and Weston and motioned them to enter the Kitchen. The Cook was a similarly beefy man, as most men were, with brown hair and a handle bar mustache. Weston followed as the Cook led them to the back of the kitchen where there were two freezers, one freezer door was small, and the other was large. He knocked on the smaller door in a certain pattern that sounded like "shave and a haircut; two bits". The freezer door then opened revealing a young man in brown pants and suspenders.

When Weston went into the freezer, the smaller freezer was lined with fake metal containers, and it wasn't being refrigerated. The young man moved Weston aside and gripped onto one of the wall length shelves, which rolled away revealing a sliding door that was near invisible. The sliding door revealed a dimly lit spiral staircase, the young man didn't even take a moment to go down the stairs, and Weston slid the door closed behind him before following.

The walked down the stairs for a long while, when they finally reached the bottom of the stairs they were in an underground hallway. The hallway suddenly stopped at a blunt edge, after that there was a strange liquid that seemed to be water. Only the liquid had an ominous green tint. The man then turned to scar, nodded and went back up the stairs.

"Ummm okay, Well what are we doing hanging around some poisoned water? You gonna drown me or some-" but Weston was suddenly interrupted when Scar slammed his hand against one side of the cellar wall. Blue sparks erupted and with a crash he blew up a part of the wall concaving it. Weston had never seen Scar's destructive abilities, he only ever heard about it as a child. Weston just stood his eyes bugged out from the trauma.

Scar towered over Weston, "I assume you have adopted some of your father's talent," his guttural voice stated not as a question but as a fact. Weston understood what Scar meant, and with a look of determination he nodded as Scar moved aside to give him some room. Weston then transmuted some of the concave into a smoother surface to step onto, Scar stepped onto the surface, "don't fall in", he warned.

Soon Scar and Weston formed a rhythm of teamwork as they would take turns building their bridge above the poisonous waters.

When they finally reached the end wall of the poisoned reservoir, there was a giant circular hole in the middle of it.

When they went through the hole, Weston found he was in an underground tunnel, with a single set of tracks to carry mining supplies and rock.

"Sooooooo, A tunnel," Weston commented lazily.

"This tunnel was built by a humunculus named Sloth, and was used as transportation for another humunculus named Pride, It circles around all of Amestris," Scar explained, Weston stared down the tunnel, it was pitch black, and he had the sudden urge to shiver, "I know you don't want to be over heard, and it's easy to find prying ears in the back of a bar."

"Y-yeah," Weston stuttered, he didn't know what to say about this tunnel. It was amazingly terrifying and he was lightly disappointed his father didn't tell him about it.

Unexpectedly, Scar did his oppressive towering that he seemed to do often with people, "I think it's time for you to tell me what I don't know," his eyes glowing red.

The Elric Children

* * *

The Elric Children 

In the dim light of a lantern, Weston faced Scar in the abandoned tunnel, his face grim with a small frown adorning his features. He was nearing the end of his story, explaining what happened on that night. The masked man who kidnapped his sister, and forced Weston's hand at human transmutation. He felt a little weary to inform Scar about his sin, mostly because of the whole killing state alchemists for their sins and such. What if he decided that Weston deserved judgement from God? What if he felt that he shouldn't allow him to live with this sin?

"Scar," Weston called out the man's name for the first time, "I'm sorry," he said bowing his head in shame, his golden bangs hiding his face. Scar had no idea why the boy was apologizing to him, but he just waited patiently for the boy to say what was on his mind.

"What I had transmuted," Weston paused, almost choking on his words, he has never said it, not really no. It was always his sister who would save him the trouble, she would always hold his hand and say it for him when he choked. This wouldn't be easy to say, it was never easy, but this time he had say it himself. He didn't have his little sister to say it for him, "It was fed Philosophers stones," he stated first, lifting his head.

When Scar finally saw the boy's face, it was contorted in horror and fear, "I created a monster," he confessed gripping his hair into his fists, "I was thirteen years old! I was just a kid and that man used me to create a fucking humunculus!" He fell down to his knees, his forehead contorted into the dirt. His wails echoing off of the tunnel walls. He would have thought that actually saying the words would have been a relief, a weight lifted off his shoulders. But he couldn't cope with acknowledging this crime, he felt his Xerxian blood boil painfully beneath his fingers as he thought of the beast. He felt his head pound as his blood followed the law of gravity, making it a heavy lead. He felt so heavy, he never wanted to lift it off the ground ever again. He would have gladly accepted staying in this empty tunnel, forever, until his body would cave and the pain finally stop, until the boil beneath his skin would finally cool.

"D_amn it! Damn it all!" _he shrieked out, pounding his fist into the dirt, as if that could stop the boil beneath his finger tips. The boy's gold eyes wide and perturbed, his despair darkening his face, "I'm a child," he cried out, almost as though he realized this for the first time, fat tears began to crawl down his forehead and into his hair, "What sort of man makes a child create such a thing!?" he screamed out to nobody in particular, his voice echoed down the walls of the underground tunnel.

Scar watched the child, children were not supposed to shoulder such grief, and he had no idea how to comfort the child of it. He hadn't even tried comforting a child since May Chang, but she was no longer a little girl, and that was a long time ago. He understood why Weston had apologized to him before his confession, but the child had not committed any crime in Scar's eyes. No, this child went through a great injustice. He was so different, and Scar felt indebted to him for past mistakes that he once thought he had already paid the price for. So, Scar said the only thing he knew he could say to ease the child.

"A man who will pay for his sins," he replied to the boy, who froze at his answer, "This masked man will be found, and when he is," Scar's grave voice pierced through the eerie silence of the tunnel, "he will have to atone not only at the hands of God, but by the hands of those he abused for his sins."

The boy looked up at Scar, his intimidating figure stern and powerful, he pointed down at him, "you will be the one to exact such judgement, as you have every right to do so, and on that day, I will be there to ensure that happens."

The silence was deafening, as the boy allowed the weight of his words to sink in. His gold eyes wide as he gazed up at the man who spoke of vigilante justice. The old tunnel surrounded the boy with such a silence, an empty, desolate, silence that filled his ears and mind with impartial equity. It took a while for the boy to calm down, and while he listened to that silence his wails of fury began to change into cries of relief. He finally found the release, the weight was lifted, and his shoulders slumped forward, suddenly feeling light headed. He expressed his relief through his wails, and through his tears he made a groggy laugh.

When he cried himself dry and was finally able to stand, he wiped his face on his shirt, sniffling and hiccuping away his fears. It was then he did something that Scar really wasn't expecting, he looked up and smiled at him. A grateful, happy smile. His eyes were red and his nose was runny, but the boy still smiled, and when he was done wiping his face he looked up again at Scar, "Thank you," he grinned, his cheeks flushed from slight embarrassment and irritation from the cloth of his shirt.

"Yeah well," Scar scratched his chin, suddenly feeling embarrassed, "no problem, kid," he then put his had on the boys head in a comforting gesture. Which the boy welcomed as his smile widened. He wouldn't tell Scar, but he swore in the dim light that the man had actually blushed.

The Elric Children

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_A/N: okay so that's it for me today :P I was planning on revealing some clues that Scar may have about Ed in this chapter, but when all this angst stuff took it up, i decided to move that whole part for the third part of the Ishvalan trilogy :P _

_Review! Thanks for reading! _


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